


A Matter of Public Record

by reeby10



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: International Fanworks Day 2020, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mild Sexual Content, Morning After, Nudity, Woke Up Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/pseuds/reeby10
Summary: Harry's eyes widened as he saw the other man's face and he let out a very unmanly squeak. It couldn't be... could it?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 12
Kudos: 168
Collections: WIP Big Bang Challenge 2020





	A Matter of Public Record

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the majority of this way back in 2011 and it just sat in my files for a long time. A couple of years ago I had my beta read it and she said it needed a bit more at the end to be complete, so I decided I'd do that. I did not lol So when I was looking for something to do for WIP Big Bang Challenge this year, I decided well, it's only a couple hundred more words, I can do that. And I did! :D

Harry slowly came into consciousness, groaning as the light trickling into the room met his eyes. His head was one throbbing, pounding mass of pain. He lay on the bed with one hand over his eyes to block out the light and tried to remember where he was and how he got there. All he could remember was the smell of alcohol and flashing, multicolored lights.

Suddenly he became aware of the sound of breathing to his right. There was someone else in the bed with him, someone he had probably slept with the night before, and now he'd have to deal with it. God, could this day get any worse?

He opened his eyes, squinting in pain, and rolled over as quietly as he could. The person next to him was facing away, but judging by the muscular back, quite obviously male. The man's skin was pale but with a healthy glow and black hair fell in waves onto the pillow and around his shoulders.

Deciding he needed to see what time it was and if the Order would be missing him yet, Harry reached for his wand to cast a quick Tempus. As soon as he touched his wand, though, the other man was up, wand in his own hand.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw the other man's face and he let out a very unmanly squeak. It couldn't be... could it?

“Voldemort?” he asked, hoping to any gods listening that he was wrong.

The other man gave a curt nod before grabbing his head, moaning in pain. Obviously he was suffering a head splitting headache courtesy of a night of wild drinking. “Potter,” he groaned out, “what the fuck is going on?”

Harry rolled his eyes, immediately regretting the action when his head began pounding again. “I was hoping you would know. I can't remember a thing that happened last night...” He trailed off, looking between the two of them. Both were obviously naked under the thin sheet covering their lower regions and the room held the slight tang of sweat. “Well, it's obvious one thing that happened, but other than that I don't know.”

Voldemort looked up, noticing their nakedness. “Oh Merlin, I fucked the Boy Who Lived! I'm supposed to kill you, not fuck you!” he whined, lowering his hands from his head.

“Yeah, well, I'm supposed to be killing you instead of fucking you too, so I suppose we're even,” Harry returned with a scoff. “But besides the obvious, do you remember what happened last night?

“Not a thing,” Voldemort said, slowly shaking his head. “I remember going to a club in muggle London and drinking, then... nothing.”

Harry nodded, wincing a little. “That's about what I remember as well.” He sighed, wishing he could remember. Maybe his memory would be better if his head didn't hurt so much. “By chance do you know any spells to relieve hangovers?” he asked, looking hopefully at the Dark Lord.

“Don't you think if I did I would have used them on myself already?” Voldemort snapped. He rubbed his temples, eyes closed. “I apologize,” he said after a moment.

Harry grinned, leaning forward slightly. “Is the big bad Dark Lord apologizing to the Boy Who Lived?” he teased. His smile widened at the amused smirk that appeared on the handsome face across from him.

“I suppose I am. Just don't tell my Death Eaters, they'd probably have a heart attack. Not to mention the rest of the wizarding public.” They both chuckled at that, smiling at one another.

Just then, their moment of peace was interrupted by several owls swooping in through a window that neither had noticed was open before. The owls landed on the bed and were quickly divested of their burdens. Harry flipped through the letters, noticing that they were all addressed to him and came from people he didn't know from all over the UK. There was also a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet.

“What in the-” he began, but was cut off by another owl swooping in, this one bearing a Howler.

Harry immediately opened the Howler, knowing better than to try and just ignore it. Sound seemed to erupt from it, making them both close their eyes and cover their ears as their headaches doubled in intensity. When Harry recognized the voice of the Weasley matriarch, he pulled the sheet over his head, trying to burrow as far into the bed as he could.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER! HOW DARE YOU GET MARRIED WITHOUT INFORMING ANY OF US, AND TO YOU KNOW WHO AT THAT! WE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THE TWO OF YOU WERE ON GOOD TERMS, MUCH LESS ON THE ROAD TO MARRIAGE! I AM UTTERLY APPALLED THAT YOU WOULD KEEP SOMETHING LIKE THIS A SECRET FROM ALL OF US. EVEN RON AND HERMIONE DIDN'T KNOW AND THEY HAVE BEEN YOUR BEST FRIENDS FOR YEARS! YOU HAD BETTER COME TO THE BURROW RIGHT AWAY AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF, YOUNG MAN!”

Harry peeked out from under the sheet as the shouting ended and the Howler burst into flames, ashes falling onto the bed. He looked over at the man next to him, horrified looks on both of their faces. “Did... did she say we're married?” he squeaked out, eyes wide.

Voldemort nodded slowly, mouth slightly open, obviously still in shock. If Harry hadn't been in shock himself, he would have found the sight quite amusing.

Shaking off the shock from Mrs. Weasley's Howler, Harry began ripping open the other letters. Some of them were voicing their horror that he was married to Voldemort, others shouting out disgust and calling for his blood, still others pleading for him to say it was all a hoax or a mistake.

Eventually he made it around to the Daily Prophet and opened it to see a picture of him from before he graduated Hogwarts and the title “BOY WHO LIVED MARRIES YOU KNOW WHO IN HIDDEN CEREMONY. ARE WE ALL DOOMED?” gracing the front. Quickly, he scanned through the story, noticing there was an accompanying story two pages later. He flipped to that and saw a picture of him entering a Muggle club, probably the one he had gone to last night. This story was titled “BOY WHO LIVED AND YOU KNOW WHO: SECRET MEET UP!”

As Harry stared at the paper in mounting horror, Voldemort was going through the letters, face growing paler and paler with each one he read. Finished with the letters, he snatched away the Daily Prophet and read the front page story before practically tearing it apart to read the accompanying one. By the time he was finished, his face was deathly pale and his hands were clenched around the paper.

At the sound of the crumpled paper, Harry seemed to come back to himself and immediately buried his head in his hands. “Oh Merlin, what did we do?” he wailed. “Bloody drank ourselves into stupors and got married, is what we did! Now what're we going to do?”

As if on cue, another owl flew through the window, dropping a letter with the Ministry of Magic crest, addressed to them both, on the bed before flying right back out. Both Harry and Voldemort stared at the letter, wary of its contents, for several minutes, wondering what it said and if it would just be better to burn it.

Eventually Voldemort gave in, tearing the letter open. Harry moved around to read it as well, but in moments had scooted as far away as he could. The letter was to inform them that their marriage certificate had been filed and made public record.

“Well that explains all the other letters,” Voldemort murmured, still looking at the letter from the Ministry of Magic. Harry gave a whimper, making the Dark Lord look up at him. “Now what is the matter?”

“We're bloody married!” Harry snapped, cheeks flushed.

Voldemort nodded, not quite understanding. “Yes, I think I realized that quite a while ago. But I'm sure we can simply divorce and go back to trying to kill one another. Blow it off as a mistake.”

“It's not that simple,” Harry returned, rolling his eyes. “Did you not read the postscript? It says the marriage vows we took are eternally binding. As in we can't get divorced. As in we are bloody well stuck with one another!”

The Dark Lord quickly looked back at the letter in his hands, mouth widening slightly. “I... I'm stuck with you?” he asked, aghast.

“And what about me?” Harry snapped. “I'm not too happy to be stuck for the rest of my life with a psychotic megalomaniac who's been trying to kill me since I was a baby!”

It was Voldemort's turn to roll his eyes. “I'm hardly psychotic, though I won't disagree with the megalomaniac part. But is it my fault the current system is so bad and I feel it's my duty to change it?”

“Your duty to kill all muggles?” Harry asked, chuckling without any real humor.

Voldemort nodded earnestly. “Yes, the muggles are what is keeping the wizarding world from progressing as it should. We were meant to be powerful and not have to stand back and be abused by those who don't understand us.”

The two stared at each other for several moments, each thinking about the abuses they suffered in their childhoods, so different but so similar. Eventually Harry shook his head, a wry grin on his head. “I'm not saying I agree, but I can't totally fault your logic on that one. But —” he cut the older man off when he seemed about to interrupt — “I don't really think that's something we should be discussing at this moment. You do remember that we're apparently married now and there's no way out of it?”

“Of course I do, it's not like I could forget with all the letters sitting right here and you mostly naked. Though really, the view isn't bad.”

Harry flushed at the look his arch-nemesis turned husband was giving him and grabbed at the sheet, pulling it up to his chin. “Don't look at me like that!”

Voldemort leaned forward, leering. “I'm just telling the truth, sweet cheeks,” he said, voice taking on a husky quality that had Harry blushing more furiously than before.

“Get away from me!” Harry squeaked, scooting back on the edge. Suddenly he fell off the edge, arms wheeling, and landed on his back.

“And that's an even better view,” Voldemort said, leaning over the edge of the bed, eyebrows raised and a hungry look in his eyes.

Harry suddenly realized that the sheet had tangled around his legs as he fell, leaving him totally exposed. With another squeak, he tried to cover himself, but Voldemort was faster, slipping down to the floor as well and pinning both hands above his head.

“Now, now, Harry,” Voldemort purred, eyes raking the naked figure below him. “No need to be shy. I've seen it all before after all, even if I don't remember. And if we're stuck being married to one another, we might as well enjoy it, no?”

Eyes wide, Harry opened his mouth to retort, to say he was quite happy being celibate for the rest of his life thank you very much, but was cut off by the older man's mouth descending on his own. He struggled as Voldemort's tongue forced its way in, but he couldn't help a moan of pleasure as the Dark Lord's hips ground down onto his.

He was fighting a losing battle, he knew. What Voldemort wanted he got, and at the moment the dark wizard seemed to want him, as bizarre as that realization was. Equally bizarre, he wanted Voldemort too.

Neither of them remembered the night before, but they were certainly making up for it now. Voldemort kissed with much more passion than Harry would have guessed, making Harry feel like he was drowning in the most pleasurable way. He let Voldemort take the lead, pressing their bodies together, heat building between them, until finally, gloriously, it peaked and they both collapsed, panting, to the ground.

Once they’d both caught their breaths, they moved back up to the more comfortable bed. It was strange to Harry to be wrapped together with someone who was his greatest enemy, but he was comfortable and sated in Voldemort’s arms. And they were married anyway, so he figured it wasn’t so bad to allow himself to enjoy this. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

“So what are you planning to tell your… friends?”

And there was the mood breaker. And an extremely uncomfortable reminder about what their situation really meant, other than some pretty fantastic sex and post coital cuddling.

Harry’s eyes went wide as it hit him that he’d have to actually _explain_ what was going on. To Ron and Hermione. To the rest of the Weasleys. Likely to the Daily Prophet press at some point. Which he very much did not want to have to do. He was having a hard enough time understanding it himself, much less getting everyone else on board.

“Er,” he said, scrambling for a good answer.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow and Harry felt like he was doing really well not to just plant his face in the mattress and refuse to answer. It would be so much nicer to pretend none of this ridiculousness was happening. And really, he knew this ridiculousness was just the start. There would be far more to come once the news spread further.

He shrugged, helpless, and gave his new husband a wry grin. “I guess I’ll just have to wing it.”


End file.
